Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1887-03-10
SET IN DIAMONDS.
CHAPTER Ill.
A GOLDEN GIRLuoop.

part of his life; it had entered his sou
and turned TO music there, and now the
music had changed TO MINOR KEY: il
was more beautiful than ever, but the
joyous ring had left it; it was full O
pathos and sadness. lie laid his wife
to rest under the shade of the great
trees, and her grave became shrine
and sanctuary for him. His melodies
after that had in them something that
reminded one of the wind sweeping
over the long grasses, and of the soft
fall of the dew by night.
He gave the rest of his life to his art
In life his name was not known to the
world that after his death found him
famous; the world that crowned him
with laurels and erected statues in his
honor when he was no longer living to
enjoy his fame; they say that the fame
which comes after death is sweeteI
than any earned during life.
In life Cyril Marine was unknown:
people who lived Immediately round
about him had a good-natured kind OF
pity for him; he was not of their world,
he cared nothing for the things they
loved best, those things for which they
cared were less than nothing to him;
they could no more have understood
him than they could have heard the
music SO plain to him in the wind and
the river.
He gave the rest of his life TO art
without any thought of recompense.
That he might one day hear these
works of his performed as they should
be was the only thing he cared for-to
make money of them was thing he
never dreamed of.
He worked necessarily, from sunrise
until sunset without intermission; he
rose often while the stars were shining
In the skies. From the house came
sounds of music so sweet, subtle, SO I'M
earthly that at midnight no one cared
to pass near. In the early morning,
laborers going TO their work paused
and wondered whether any human be-
ing could produce such sounds, or
whether they came from spiritland.
Cyril Marine forgot the world he lived
in, he remembered only the world of
sounds. He disliked any interruption,
and but for his faithful old servant he
would have gone without food for days
together, just as he would have gone
without sleep; when the "Divine Fire."
was upon him he forgot both.
"A strange guardian for baby GIRL"
the old nurse said. His one idea of the
child was setting her to music. 1t was
certain fact that he tried to teach her
everything by music. Before the child
said her prayers he would play grand
old psalm tunes until the little soul
seemed TO float away on the sweet
sounds. If he saw her depressed or
tired he would play such enchanting,
such inspiring music that it seemed to
enter the little feet and the child would
dance like an inspired fairy. If she
were restless and could not sleep he
would play little pathetic airs that
lulled her every sense 1t was as
though he only spoke, only taught, only
exchanged ideas with her through
music. 1t was as thought music was
the natural life of the child; but it made
her most unlike other children. She
grew like strange, beautiful bird, diff
fering from other children as the white
dove differs from the sparrow tribe.
She had a soul full of beautiful secrets,
mind full of beautiful thoughts,
heart full of beautiful desires; there
was nothing commonplace about her.
Her fathers music, so beautiful and so
rare, was to her series Of pictures.
AS she listened she dreamed, and her
music.
IL it were brilliant and full of martial
fire, she would fancy herself Joan of
Are, the leader of brilliant armies. the
conqueror of thousand foes; wild
shouts rent the air. cannons fired and
bells rang, while the people proclaimed
her queen; the music changed to some
soft, sweet air, and she was a black
eta l. In al
change to love ballad so sweet that
the birds in the air paused to listen, and
she was the beloved of some gay "cava-
Her." So she lived her life of romance
and dreams.
Cyril Marine lived much alone; the
only visitor he had was David Arson,
the organist of the old church ut install,
and they talked little. They PLAYED
duets of all kinds of Instruments, the
child listening and filling in her dream
pictures, made doubly strong and
doubly beautiful by the additional force.
David Arson loved the beautiful child
with her magnificent eyes. lie said lit
tie to her, but he never came without
bringing her some little present. Her
only other friend was the Rector of st.
Alphage, who had neither wife nor
child, and loved 80 sun himself in the
fair lovelin, 5 Of the graceful little girl.
The pref house-maid left when her
young mistress died; she could not en-
dure the loneliness of the spot, the sense
of death, the weird music. She soon
went away, and one who had been a
faithful servant of Cyril's mother took
her place. Martha Grey was one Of the
faithful, old fashioned servants, one of
a race rapidly dying out. She was de-
voted to her master. it was no exagger-
alton to say that she would have given
her life for him, while she worshiped
Marguerite as the most beautiful and
adorable OF human beings. Education,
In the strict sense of the word, the
child had none. Martha taught her to
read, and after that she educated her.
self; she read all the old-fashioned books
that abounded in the library; she knew
the old poets by heart. while she had
never even see modern no-el: she had
the most qnuaint collection of knovl-
edge; she knew the most out-of-the-
way things, while she was quite igno-
rant of the most common matters.
Her father taught her music. Her
voice was not like her mother's-a clear.
ringing sOprano--it was q contralto of
the richest and most sympathetic kind.
She could play the piano, the harp, and
the violin, but she did not know one
word Of French or German. She could
sing like an angel, but she was ignor-
ant of the most ordinary affairs of every
day life. Cyril Marine had passion
for music; the artist soul was transmit
ted to his daughter, and in her it took
the shape of intense love and keen ap-
probation Of the beauties of nature.
She would spend whole days in the